


The Mindscape Isn’t Always A Friendly Place

by GasterFan5



Series: Gravity Falls [7]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Depression, Gen, Mindscapes, Regrets, Suicide Attempts, Taking Chances, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-02 02:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17878994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GasterFan5/pseuds/GasterFan5
Summary: Ford and Stanley got into a fight, and Ford's still fuming over it. He decides to check for mental health and signs of Bill Cipher one night by delving into the kid's mindscapes, and found them decent.Then, he has a gut feeling he should check on Stanley, even though he hates him.Thank God he checked.





	The Mindscape Isn’t Always A Friendly Place

**Author's Note:**

> I wanna write this right here: this sh__ can get kinda dark!! I don't know how dark this is, butttt if suicide and depression isn't your thing, pleaaase don't read this. I don't want someone to get all depressed by reading this ;~;

The faint alarm in the middle of the night woke Ford up, yet nobody else-or he thought so, anyways. It was set intentionally, as he had wanted to check up on Dipper’s and Mabel’s mind for signs of Bill Cipher. He needed some sort of object of personal value belonging to them, then would whisper an incantation to warp into the mindscape.

He recalled the morning the previous morning. He had gotten up and grabbed something to eat for breakfast. Ford was the only one up for the moment, and enjoyed the silence. It was then that Stanley woke up, and they both got into a fight.

Of course they did. If he was honest, Ford was still fuming over it. It was something about how Stanley didn’t ruin Ford’s life and he thought he should be thanked for bringing him back.

But that was stupid, because Stanley had, obviously, gained a criminal record under Ford’s name (which he claimed he sorted out, but sure), had pushed him in the portal in the first place, destroyed his opportunity to go to his dream school, and had been insanely risky with bringing him back and caused the rift, which could lead to a weirdmageddon-and _did._

He was burning with fury, then realized he was wasting time just thinking about that leech. Ford should just forget about it. Taking a deep breath, he went into the children’s room.

First, Dipper. Ford knew how much his journals meant to Dipper, so much so the child had started writing atop Ford’s work. Ford allowed him to keep it, so it was the best option. You didn’t really _need_ an object for it, but it was better odds for the spell to work.

With a sigh, Ford whispered the incantation. _Bootes licuerit intrare in Pincis Mindscape propositum esse signa daemonis reprehendo._

Clutching the book, he teleported into Dipper’s mindscape. It was a quiet forest, trees everywhere with bright greens. Colors showed good health mentally, and with all the greens and browns and the beautiful sunset in the sky, there was no doubt about a decent health.

Ford couldn’t help but smile. A forest would make his mind open, yet you couldn’t find much at the same time. The memories were carved onto the trees, and if you touched one it would enter the memory. Sometimes, you could randomly enter one, if the person was open with their feelings. It was a good mindscape. Claw marks in the shape of Bill Cipher marked one tree, showing his fear for the demon.

That wasn’t worrying. It appeared that while he had been tricked by the demon before, Bill hadn’t went much into his mind.

With relief flowing through him, he repeated the incantation, only slightly different. “ _Liceat mihi, ut relinquam in Mindscape de TEMO caeruleas pinus contempserat. Meus ad huc semel exstitit condicio.”_

And with that, Ford was back in their room, still holding the book in his hands. Putting it down, he went over to the girl, who he doubted had been much in contact with Bil.

Still, better safe than sorry. Besides, while he’s there he can check her mental stability.

_“Liceat mihi, caeruleas pinus contempserat intrare in Mindscape Mabilie ut reprehendo eam mentis et signa daemonis,”_ Ford whispered again, this time clutching the small pig itself. He hoped it gave the right idea.

Sure enough, he ended up in Mabel’s Mindscape. He smiled, relieved to see rainbows in the sky. It looked like candyland come alive, and he didn’t particularly like it, but the mindscape was sturdy and, obviously, she had good mental health.

Searching around, he found a small castle, which must hold her deepest secrets. Unicorns guarded it, meaning she still adored the creatures. He passed through it with ease, as he had been in many mindscapes in his time. You learned things.

Worries over Dipper leaving her, mainly just Dipper himself, appeared, but there weren’t many and it didn’t seem to be that big of a deal. Overall, she was a happy and vibrant child.

All of Ford’s worries washed away, for he didn’t give a shit about Stanley and the kids…the kids were fine. Everyone he cared about was fine.

Re-phrasing the words, he repeated his incantation. _“Liceat mihi, ut relinquam in Mindscape Mabilie caeruleas pinus contempserat. Hic opus est.”_

And hey, wouldn’t you know it? He was back out of the Mindscape. Neither child awoke from the occurrence, however most didn’t and it wasn’t expected. Ford sighed in relief. So it seemed Bill had reached into their minds, but not enough to cause damage.

Not enough to make them like himself.

Ford sighed, walking out of the room, going down the stairs, and passing by Stanley’s room. There was his brother, sleeping peacefully. He could easily just…check.

Ah, hell, it wouldn’t take that long. Taking the golden chain on his neck in hand, he whispered, “ _Pectus mihi confer mundum accedere Mindscape de Stanley caeruleas pinus contempserat.”_

Rolling his eyes, he thought of every stupid little thing that would be there. A flicker of darkness, then everything seemed to shift. To rainbows of color, to peace. It wasn’t right.

Still, Ford knew the signs of Bill, and they couldn’t leave. He knew, also, that Ford could easily destroy the whole façade. That he did, closing his eyes and willing it to go back. Some extreme resistance he didn’t expect, then it turned.

God, it was so…melancholy. Only shades of black, grey, and white filled Stanley’s mindscape. “ _Perhaps it was his favorite color?”_ Ford attempted, but it was no use. Something was up.

He looked around, seeing a broken swing-set and a ton of junk like he’d entered a dump. More useless items floated around, the majority defected or broken. Ford walked into this sort of house, finding it to resemble the Mystery Shack.

Ford shivered, passing through a memory.

“ _He told me not to fight. I didn’t. He told me not to cry. I didn’t. He told me to keep my head up. Like hell if I could.” I faced a desk littered with papers. I didn’t understand any of it. But maybe if I was more like my genius of a brother…maybe if I was a little useful…but no. No._

Tears littered Ford’s eyes. He hadn’t seen any of this.

_Get out. Getoutgetout. You dOn’T BElONg hERe._

A jolt, and he was out of the memory. A swarm of thoughts passed through him.

_“What do you think, useless little..? I tried to make you useful. Look at you. This was such a waste of time.” I don’t have much to live for. Here, I had Ford. At least, someday, he’d care about me._

_Like hell. I was such an idiot then._

_. . ._

_I tried. I tried everything. There wasn’t anything to live for, but Ford. And he was on the other side of the portal. I had to…I pulled out the knife. Twisting it in my hand, I slashed my arm as hard as I could. So much for a reason._

_. . ._

_“What do you live for?” Stanley questioned, looking in the mirror, deep into his own eyes._

_“Ford.” he said, unhesitatingly._

_“He hates you, does he not?” Stan replied. He could imagine the times Ford wanted to kill him. Too many to count._

_“Well, yeah.” he trailed off._

_“Why not give yourself a break from the loneliness?” He asked himself. “Why not..” he handed himself a knife._

_. . ._

_Cuts. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. The blood splattered onto the ground, but Stanley only smiled when he saw the welcoming sight._

_. . ._

_There was nobody there besides himself. He looked nervous, crashing through an alleyway. Shortly after a dozen men chased him with pitchforks. Burns were already showing on Stanley, and he wanted to cry so badly…but you don’t cry. That’s just not what you do._

_. . ._

_A feeling. A dull, miniscule feeling of happiness. It washed away before he could recognize it, though, and he burst into tears. There wasn’t a thing to get rid of himself._

_Or was there?_

_. . ._

_Running through an asylum, obviously trying to reach the escape. He wasn’t so lucky this time, getting caught and forced into his room once more._

_. . ._

_Banging his head on the wall for hours. The time passed. Months, years. All Stanley did was bang his head on the wall until he felt pain, then would do whatever he was supposed to._

_. . ._

_A gun in his hands. The joy in his eyes when he looked at it, checking the bullets._

_Bang._

_. . ._

_No more reasons. Life hadn’t a purpose. He was just a useless slut who would do anything for money. Nobody cared about him. Nobody-_

“STOP!!!!” Ford screeched. Everything came to a crashing halt. Tears spilled from his eyes. His horrible brother…had feelings, too.

With a sniff, he whispered an indiscernible chant, coming out of his mind. Did he believe it was something major? Now he did. Well, not too bad…

He looked up, seeing the bed empty. It wasn’t usual for one to wake up after these, but in the middle? Ford contemplated this for a moment, hearing a thud in Stan’s closet.

Slowly, he got up, making his way to the closet, and opening the door. It was a record, playing softly. A trick. He could hear laughing from the other side of the room, which was behind him. Stanley cursed, clamping his mouth shut.

Ford spun around to find…There was Stanley. Without a reason to live, without a will. A letter lay on the ground, and Stan was standing on a tall chair, a noose around his neck like a choker. Tears came through Stanley, who started shaking. 

“Don’t….don’t make me live,” he choked out, stumbling on the chair. Sensing the possibility of him falling, Ford rushed over, jumping on the chair and, with one swift motion, cutting it with his knife.

He slumped to the floor, drawing up his knees and staring blankly. “You shouldn’t have even bothered with me. I was this close… _this_ close..” Stanley muttered. “I must’ve done a horrible job with pretending to sleep, huh. God, I always screw it up, don’t I?” he spoke after.

Ford glanced at his brother, clearly upset. “What do you mean?! You could’ve died! I wouldn’t have ever seen you again. The kids wouldn’t have…” He sobbed, thinking of Stanley. Was all of the bright personality just to hide the depression? Was he so care-free and such a risk-taker because he didn’t care?

“I know what you’re thinkin’. Why be so bold besides hiding such dull and depressing thoughts? Why be so care-free, I must have a plan to die so I don’t care what happens to me. Why be such a risk-taker? Well, if I fail..then I die. That’s not so bad,” Stanley said darkly, looking up at Ford with tears.

Ford slumped down to the ground, and the two of them cried together for a good hour.

Ford had called the therapist he used, and they had told him to bring Stanley to the mental hospital. He did, and Stanley stayed there for a week, then started weekly therapy.

Stanley told his life-story, with those small details he pretended were jokes. The therapist gave him antidepressants, then stated he had clinical depression, not to mention PTSD.

Stanley got better after a long few years, and could smile again.

Ford couldn’t help but think that, without that gut feeling, he wouldn’t have checked on Stanley. And if he didn’t…Stanley would be dead right about now. It made him sick every time he thought about it. Then looking at Stan with that bright and happy smile…it made everything better.

**Author's Note:**

> Wasn't that fun. Yayyy. Hello. Have a nice day/night. I dunno.


End file.
